


Lemon to a Knife Fight

by Circade (CaffeineFeverDream)



Category: DreamSMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Assisted Masturbation, Fusion, Ghosts, Glattbur - Freeform, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Canon Compliant, Possession, Rivalry, Rough Kissing, Sexual Content, Sharing a Body, slight body horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29528091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeineFeverDream/pseuds/Circade
Summary: I kick and you like to punchI'm unhinged and you're undoneI'm not getting out of here aliveI brought a lemon to a knife fight
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 12
Kudos: 129





	1. Fusion

**Author's Note:**

> and they were body mates !

“Kill me Phil”

A sword plunges into Ghostbur’s back. Blood fills his mouth, he chokes on the taste of iron and copper while his vision dulls, rapidly fading to black

_The ether calls and he answers joyfully, relishing in the warmth of the impending darkness, the afterlife feels so welcoming compared to the noise and pain of the overworld. Two figures stand before him, too fuzzy to recognize._

_Soon his vision blurs, he’s being pulled back to the waking realm._

_He stumbles into one of the figures, knocking them down with him._

_He’s falling._

His eyes open slowly and L’manberg -or rather what’s left of it- comes back into view, Ghostbur sees his family and friends backing away from him as he rises to his feet, fighting through his disorientation. There’s a weight on his head and he raises his hands to touch; are those... horns? What?

“ **What are you all staring at?** ” Ghostbur speaks with a distorted sound, he recoils at the unfamiliar timbre of his own voice.

“Schlatt?!” Fundy exclaims, expression twisting into disgust.

“What are you talking about **I’m not-** ” he stops, focusing his voice “It’s me it’s Ghostbur!”

“Wilbur…” Eret speaks hesitantly “Something has gone terribly wrong…” he backs away from the spirit slowly, raising his sword and shield in defense.

“ **Oh Eret, I think you mean to say something has gone wonderfully** **_right_ **” Ghostbur slaps a hand over his mouth “I didn’t say that!” He looks at his father with wide eyes, trying to ignore the growing pain in his head. “What’s going on?”

“That's it, I’m done with this” Fundy raises his hands in mock defeat, turning his back and leaving the resurrection site. “You’re on your own, I shouldn’t be here”

Ranboo and Eret follow the fox, the latter giving a backwards glance at the spirit, cringing at his new, twisted appearance.

The shadow of someone else morphs alongside Ghostbur’s form. He hears a voice in his head and goes still.

**_We’re going to have so much fun together loverboy_ **

He’s frozen, eyes wide and fearful. There’s not doubt in his mind on who that voice belongs to.

“Schlatt?” his voice little more than a strained whisper

**_Bingo_ **

“But you’re dead so you should be called Glatt right?”

**_Call me whatever you want sweetheart_ **

“Who are you talking to Wil?” Phil’s voice rings in his ears, thickly accented syllables dripping with concern.

“No one! I should be going now anyway”

“Wil-”

He doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence, he runs away from the site, searching for somewhere that he can be alone. His head pounds with rushing thoughts and unfamiliar emotions. He doesn’t want Glatt poking around in his head. He catches his reflection in a puddle, clasping his hand over his mouth in a muffled scream of distress.

Coiling horns protrude from Ghostbur’s forehead, golden blood trickling down his face from the base of the keratin, his tearful eyes hold rectangular, ovine pupils in place of simple circles. His face is different; his sideburns are a bit too long, even his hair is different, streaks of white dust along brown curls. Round ears are replaced with pointred, woolen tufts, he doesn’t recognize himself at all.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real” he repeats the words like a mantra, eyes wound shut in denial, as if he can will away the disturbing truth with empty words and wishes.

His own hand comes up to unwillingly slap him across the face. He winces in pain, holding the spot and crumbling onto the muddy path below him.

**_Pull yourself together!_ **

He looks back into the puddle, instead of his own distorted reflection he sees an image of what must be Glatt. Sunken eyes stare into what feels the deepest prospects of his soul.

“This can’t be real” he shakes his head and brings his hands up to his hair, flinching when he feels the undeniable hardness of ram horns “this must be a nightmare” his voice is pleading, tears threatening to fall from welling pools.

Glatt’s form rises from the muddied image in the water, his illusory form looms over Ghostbur, floating a few inches off the ground. His face is wound in an angry scowl.

**_How dare you pull me out of my peace in the afterlife! Fucking asshole!_ **

He grabs the collar of Ghostbur’s sweater, roughly pulling the other spirit to his feet. Their faces are inches apart, but Ghostbur feels no breath leave Glatt’s lips. He can actually see right through the ram’s body.

“You’re not real” Ghostbur spits at the spirit, feigning a semblance of confidence in feeble defense.

**_I’ll show you real you piece of shit_ **

Glatt closes the short distance between them, forcing their mouths together in a rough clash of teeth and tongue, Ghostbur tastes blood on his lips where Glatt’s fangs have cut him. He exhales sharply, returning the gesture in hallowing need, sinking into the accursed kiss against his better instincts. He almost goes limp in Glatt’s grip as the apparition’s tongue probes into his mouth, the sickly taste of death is intoxicating. The minuetes feel like hours but when Glatt disappears and melts back into Ghostbur’s body it feels far too soon, he lets out a tiny whine of protest.

Ghostbur falls to the ground panting, lips wet with golden blood and saliva. The phantom feeling of Glatt’s lips on his own impossible to ignore, he tells himself he does not miss the sensation.

**_How’s that for ‘real’ eh Virgo?_ **

He jumps as the voice rings through his head, his head spins with exhaustion and another emotion he cannot place.

“Glatt I-” he stops, he can’t give in to _this,_ whatever _this_ is.

He rises, planting his feet firmly.

“Leave” he says, taking pride in the lack of waver in his voice. “This is _my_ body, so _leave_ ”

That earns him a punch by his own hand, blood trickling from his nose. Maniacal laughter echoes throughout his head, the deafening sound causing him to wince in pain.

**_My dear, sweet Ghostbur. You are not the one in control here._ **

He knows if Glatt were in front of him he would be smirking, mocking him.

He’s made a grave mistake in toiling with resurrection, the world in front of him feels like it's disappearing before his eyes, he’s losing his grip on his consciousness.

He takes a backseat in his own head, his body moves without him telling it to.

**“This will be interesting don’t you think?”**

Glatt’s voice rings from his lips. He doesn't know how to answer the question being posed, he can only watch in horror as his body is used by another being.

He’s trapped in his own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant to be a oneshot but if there's interest I am not at all opposed to continuing! thanks for reading!


	2. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and (eventually) you shall receive!

Ghostbur’s consciousness fades in and out under Glatt’s possession, each waking moment feeling like a gross display of dissociation. Being forced to be an observer in your own body is something he never thought he would have to experience. He doesn’t know what Glatt’s intentions are and frankly he doesn’t really care; he just wants control of his body back.

There was something else that hung heavy in his mind, that kiss. That disgusting, depraved,  _ Intoxicating _ feeling of sharp fangs and a vice-like grip on his collar. It really had taken his breath away, there was something so alluring about the feeling, the  _ taste _ -

**“You know I can hear you right?”** He’s interrupted by the sound of Glatt’s voice leaving his mouth. If he were in a corporeal state he would be flushed with embarrassment.

_ Mind your own business  _ he deflects, mentally shouting at his head-mate.

**“Sweetheart your business is my business as long as we’re sharing a brain”** his finger taps the side of his head, he feels the smirk on his lips. He hates this, hates the loss of control, the feeling of his limbs moving independent of his own accord.

_ Fuck off _

**“Or what?”**

He doesn’t respond, partially because he doesn’t know what to say, partially because he doesn’t feel like talking to Glatt anymore.

**“That’s what I thought”**

* * *

The days are strange and dark, he shuts himself off most of the time as Glatt wanders the SMP doing god knows what. Glatt settles in a rundown, abandoned house for the night. Tinkering away at furnaces and crafting tables. He thinks back to when he could see Glatt projected in front of him, he wonders if he can force the other ghost out, take back control.

“ **Are you fucking dumb? I’ve told you multiple times I can hear your thoughts** ” The harsh, loud cadence of Glatt’s voice pulls him out of his hazy thoughts. “ **You’re fighting a losing battle here** ”

_ Why can’t I hear your thoughts then? If we’re truly fused together? _

“ **Your brain, you tell me** ”

_ How am I supposed to know? You’re the one violating my headspace _

“ **Oh shut the fuck up** ” Glatt throws his head back in laughter “ **_You_ ** **pulled** **_me_ ** **out of the afterlife, you’re stuck with me now loverboy** ”

_ You’re sick in the head. You stupid, delusional man. _

“ **Well I’m in your head aren’t I baby? What does that make you?** ”

_ Don’t call me that. _

“ **Call you what? Baby? Loverboy?** **You’re protesting a whole lot but I know you’re a liar, I know you** ** _like_** **it** ”

_ You don’t know anything! you’re a sick, sadistic shell of a man. _ Ghostbur projects his thoughts as loud as he can, but Glatt doesn’t even flinch at the literal mental gymnastics Ghostbur is performing.

“ **You wanna fucking repeat that? See what happens** ”

_ You’re fucking sick Glatt, you stole my body from me. _

“ **Uh uh uh sweetheart I seem to remember that** **_you_ ** **pulled** **_me_ ** **out of the afterlife, that’s on you** ”

_ I didn’t mean to! I fell into you for god's sake! _

“ **Doesn’t matter, I’m here to stay Virgo** ”

_ Fuck you _

“ **In your dreams** ” Glatt smirks, continuing with his idle tasks and ignoring Ghostbur’s protests. “ **Oh my god are you fucking hard right now?!** ”

_ Shut the fuck up _

“ **Holy shit! You are! Y’know if I didn’t know any better I’d say that it’s because of me** ”

_ I said shut up Glatt.  _ His back suddenly is pressed against the wall, Glatt’s projects lay forgotten on wooden tables.

“ **Oh no no I won’t shut up sweetheart** ” His hand palms at the hardness in his jeans, it’s an unfamiliar feeling of confusing pleasure. His hand doesn’t feel like his hand, and he supposes it isn’t, Glatt’s the one at the forefront. Soft moans that don’t belong to him escape his lips; he has to tell himself he isn’t transfixed by the sound.

_ Fuck- _

“ **What do you think I’m doing loverboy?** ”

_ You weren’t supposed to hear that _

“ **Oh you know I hear everything darling** ” a strained laugh leaves his lips, cut off by gentle moaning as his hand slips beneath the cloth confines of his trousers. Lithe fingers wrapping around the length, his hand moves gracefully along the shaft. He’s flooded with endorphins, blissed out on the feeling. It’s that same intoxicating feeling he got from their kiss. 

_ Glatt please- _ he doesn’t realize he’s even thought the words until he feels the smile on his lips. He’s too floaty to focus, masturbation was never something he particularly enjoyed alive or dead, but holy fuck was this different. He feels a fingertip swipe the head, slick pre-cum coating the pads of his fingers. 

He should feel disgusted, violated, his enemy jerking him off while possessing his body. Instead he feels better than he ever has, he’s drunk on the feeling. He almost wishes he could see himself, in spite of his twisted appearance and crude features from being fused with Glatt.

His hand wraps the shaft once more, the quick strokes are all he can focus on. He was slumped against the wall, the movements quickening in pace.

“ **You ever do this on your own loverboy? Huh?** ”

_ No, not really _ Ghostbur’s a bit thankful he doesn’t need to speak verbally to Glatt, he knows if he could he wouldn’t be able to form words. His thoughts are flooded with  _ Glatt Glatt Glatt _ .

“ **Good** ” The word comes out as a low, possessive growl. Glatt’s panting echoes in Ghostbur’s head as he’s worked to completion by the other spirit, climaxing over his hand as the blissful sounds engulf his thought. Ghostbur phases in his body, somehow through the haze a transparent hand reaches out of his arm for his solid one, their fingers intertwine. It’s a strange feeling, it’s as if he’s holding his own hand, at least until Glatt squeezes his projected transparent hand. It’s a gesture that should maybe be impossible, but neither of them care, they’re already a nearly impossible construct.

His body sinks to the floor, Glatt removes his hand from his pants, wiping it against a nearby scrap of cloth. He does not let go of the ghostly hand in his own. Ghostbur thinks it’s a bit sweet.

“ **I’m not fuckin’ sweet ya hear me?** ”

_ Whatever you say Glatt. _

His body shifts to lay across the mildly uncomfortable floor, too spent to move anywhere else in the room. Ovine eyes blink shut and both ghosts drifting to unconsciousness as their shared body sleeps in relative peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and please comment what you think below! Especially if you have anything you'd like to see incorporated into future chapters.


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